AnFem, RN

Jeep still broken. Dealership full of fuckboys.

Next month, I’ll be celebrating (??) one full year at my facility. This means a number of things.

And here, I will number them.

Recerts. So many recerts. So far, we’ve reviewed HIPPA, Trauma Informed Care, tech safety/policy, code and emergency procedures (new policies on that), and...pulse ox training. This week we have an 8 hour recert day where we’ll review several things, including Mandt and ALICE training, which aren’t stressful or triggering at all.

Insurance. Due to a variety of fuck ups on many parts (myself included), my youngest has spent the last year without insurance. This will mean re-doing the majority of the paperwork this year. That reminds me, I should probably order his birth certificate this time...

Annual review. Woooooo this one’s a doozy. I know my job isn’t in danger, but I’ve had several fuck ups this year (you know, as a new nurse with practically zero training charging over a floor of 15 psych patients alone. With no support from management). And frankly, I don’t care to discuss them with King fuckin Aélla after I’ve climbed out of his snake pit. I find it incredibly hard to take criticism from folks that have never tried to help me do better in the first place.

I’ll officially have 1 year of psych nursing under my belt, which means I feel I can now be considered somewhat competent at my job. Especially considering, given our incredibly high turnover rate, I’m now one of our most experienced nurses (—what—).

Also, about a week ago, I was almost attacked by a patient. This isn’t the first time and definitely won’t be the last, but this time was different. Older gentleman, typically stable, but has a diagnosis of Bipolar I and when he cycles...oh boy, does he cycle. When he becomes manic, he gets vvvvvv irritable and sometimes vvvvvvv violent. But on the whole, he’s one of my favorite long-timers, and I trust him. And then I had to get between him and a patient who had pissed him off in 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 manic phase. And, real talk, I think he considered killing me for just like, a split second, before he realized what he was doing. And then he was able to be calmly escorted off the unit to chill out.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸'𝘀 𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗲, 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗹.

𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜

It’s super wild when you think your mental health is all under control, and then, suᏒᏢᏒᎥsᎬ bᎥᏆᏟh—we’re back to flashbacks every hour or two and flinching when your kid laughs.

Anyway, whatever, just kinda had to get that off my chest I guess. I’m still working with him and he’s cycled back down and I think I’m ok? This is definitely a milestone, for better or worse, and I’ll have to find a ђęąɭţђƴ way to cope.

On a not unrelated note, I’ll hopefully be getting the Jeep fixed tomorrow after almost an entire summer of no 4WD 😭 so, with luck, I’ll get to spend the afternoon in the hills.

And for my first trick.

Hi. I’m Amanda. I live in Rural Middle of Nowhere, drive a sweet Jeep, and have two sons that I raise more or less on my own. I have a boyfriend, I’m a caretaker for my mom, and I’m 29. I graduated nursing school just over a year ago; I worked that summer in home health, and then switched to psych. This was definitely not the plan, but I’m finding my niche. The facility I work in is chronically understaffed and outdated. Management is absolutely terrible. But my team is great, I stay busy, and I get a chance to advocate for and heal one of the most vulnerable populations there is. There’s lots of frustration and lots of celebrating. Parenthood is pretty much the same. I wouldn’t change a thing.